


Morgan's Day Out Sucked

by Contrecoup14



Category: Original Work, Raxx Corp
Genre: Autistic Meltdown, Gen, Minor Police Violence, Self-harming stims, can you tell i dont know what the fuck im doing, god these tags are terrible, meltdown at the ihop, molly says ACAB, morgan says ACAB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-04-25 23:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Contrecoup14/pseuds/Contrecoup14
Summary: After sleeping and isolating herself for almost a week, Morgan finally leaves the house. Her and Molly discover just exactly how bad of an idea this was.Takes place about a week after Al and Morgan's first fight, in the first timeline of the domestic au. if you still can't remember just literally text me. if you have no idea what im talking about youre a stranger and this will make literally 0 sense :)
Kudos: 2





	Morgan's Day Out Sucked

After a few days, she goes out. she had been off ever since… well, she's not on her A game, so she knows better than to go out alone. she hasn't had to take Molly with her out in a long time, but she digs up the vest and the lead, and she and molly head out. she just wanted to be somewhere else, just for a minute. somewhere where she doesn't have to worry about running into someone she’d rather not talk to, or someone who'd rather not talk to her. 

driving always made her skittish, and now especially, but she makes it. she steps out, and lets molly out the passenger door. it's cold and biting outside, but that's how she likes it. she can feel it. it hurts a little bit, but it doesn't hurt her. it's not quite dark yet, but it's cloudy, and foggy, and grey. she takes molly down the lawn of the park, and she looks out on the playground. its totally silent except for the usual noises you hear outside. wind, leaves shuffling around, birds. and cars, of course. tough to get away from those. the playground is empty, which is what you would hope for, considering the hour. she never stayed out quite this late, but she used to wish she could. a million years ago, back when she had a reason to want to play on the playground until nightfall and on. all just before a time, a million years ago, when she wouldnt leave the house, except for school. put all her toys in her closet, hidden, so she couldn't see them. she remembered crying, completely inconsolable, and no one could understand why. she cried whenever she was in her room. she would sleep in the kitchen, the living room, her parent room, the bathtub. it took a long, long time for her parents to take her bright yellow pikachu sheets off her bed, and the posters off the wall, and to take out all the game consoles and the tv, and- well, it took a long time. and little things like that happened all the time, kept on happening for a long time, until- 

well, until they didnt.

she sits there, with molly leaning on her knee, just thinking, for a long time, in the damp, dead grass. and, long after the sunset, long after the street lights turned on, and long after the dogs started howling, she stands up, takes Molly, and leaves. 

and they go get some food. she does her best to relax and let herself eat in peace for once. she still gets nervous, and since she hasn't been around strangers lately, every tall silhouette, every whip of long hair, every waiter on break with a small cloud of smoke around their heads, every goddamn thing makes her tense up in her booth, like a flinch. and molly would push at her feet, and she would try and relax. why on earth would either of them come to this ihop, on the other side of town? and if they did, why the hell would they come talk to her, of all people? she sighs. waste of their time, really. for 2 totally different reasons, this thought upsets her on both counts. but she tries not to think about it.

her food is fine, and she lets molly eat the bacon. it came as a side and they didn't tell her, and at this point, it's hard to care. she just doesn't have the conviction to boycott perdue and the like, when everything in her personal life makes unethical farming practices seem so distant and meaningless. 

and she takes the check and gives a 100% tip, and signs with a smiley face. this is one thing no one can take from her, at least for now. his credit card has her little puppy dog stickers on it, and no one can stop her.

on the way back out to the truck, she stops. 

and just. 

stands 

there. 

her breathing becomes heavier, more laboured, like she had been holding her breath for a long time. Molly pushes at her hand. but morgan cant feel her, all she can feel is the feeling that has been building up in her. her fear and sadness and anger and guilt, and all her pent up everything. she falls to her knees, and she can feel the sharp pain of the asphalt digging into her skin, a momentary relief. Molly pushes her nose into morgans face, but morgan cant feel anything except the burning, her whole body burns. she has to hurt, she has to, she has to. she can't take it. she cries as she kicks the ground, and slaps her hands against the cold blacktop, over, and over, and over, feeling only minor relief at the sharp pain in her hands. 

she cant see the people gathering around, watching. and more importantly, she can't see the woman who has picked up her phone. she's dialing...

she's dialing 911. 

but morgan doesn't know that. she cries as she punches her legs, as she kicks and screams, squeezing her head, trying to feel, trying to feel something, something, anything that isn't the burning under her skin that has completely overtaken her. 

after struggling with herself for almost a minute, she lifts her head up with the intent of bashing it into the ground, but molly quickly slides herself underneath as she brings her head back down, and morgan yelps with surprise. she turns around. molly's fine. she's a strong girl, and she knew she would be, but she cries with relief, and guilt, reaching for her. it's molly's job, but she always feels bad that she ended up hitting her. she still cant feel her hands, still can only feel the fire in her skin, and the tangle of heavy weights in her stomach, and under her eyes. but she holds molly, and molly pushes her over, and licks her face, and morgan laughs weakly, holding on only because of the heavy weight of molly on her chest. she stays there, holding tightly to mollys long fur like it was the only thing keeping her here, and it was. and she just lays there. 

the fire is still too much for her to see or hear anything outside of the two of them, until she sees a hand. at first she's too dizzy from the effort to keep her breathing steady to realize, but when the hand grabs molly and pushes her away, she suddenly realizes something is very, very wrong. she cries out, screams. she still cant see who it is, but someone is grabbing molly. she hopes she's screaming no, please, i need her, but its not likely. the fire doesnt so much subside as it does moves somewhere else, as the real world starts to come back into focus, and panic sets in its place. she can see a circle of people surrounding her, many recording, and a car with bright lights coming off it. bright red and blue lights.

she's done for. she's been scared for her life before, of course, but this is different. this is the police. a game of roulette, totally unpredictable. and so far it's looking like maybe she got unlucky. 

she grasps at molly, trying to get her back, but a hand grabs her shoulder. she lurches forward, screaming, feeling the burning under her skin spread from the spot on her shoulder, up and down her whole body. she recoils, trying to squeeze her head, to try and bring herself back, but someone's trying to grab her, she can't see them, molly's gone, and all she can feel is the burning and the sound of the bright lights and the colours of the officers voices; a deep, pitch black; cold blues and greys; and a warm, dark reddish-brown that makes her feel like she's dying. the officer starts to gets a good hold of her, as she cries and kicks and screams. all in a vain attempt at begging them to leave her alone. shes sure she's not, but she hopes she's screaming don't hurt me, please, im not dangerous, don't hurt me, please

and after a while; what feels like ages, but was really about five minutes, they have her completely restrained, and all she can do is scream. her mind is so tired and frayed. where...where are her cards. her cards! they say what she cant. i'm autistic, i'm mute, i'm not dangerous, don't hurt me. if im in trouble, please call- 

oh.

right. 

well then. she hopes they don't call that number, because- well, shed rather get arrested.

everything past that is a blur. she's too exhausted to struggle, as they zip-tie her hands and lead her into the back seat of a cop car. she cant buckle herself, and she can barely sit up. she opens her mouth, and tries to ask for molly, but she can't. she sighs, and sits, silent and resigned, as the cop yells at her, and eventually buckles her seatbelt himself, and when he closes the door she tries to lean against it in an attempt to remain upright.

they pull her out of the car and sit her down in a room. she thinks they might be talking to her but she's not sure. and then they drag her into another room. a room with three concrete walls, and one made of metal bars, horizontal and vertical. she shudders, and tries not to move, knowing if she feels any friction, she'll be tempted to make more, and eventually she'll get hurt. 

molly's not here, and she's not sure if she has someone to call. she has no voice; they must have taken her cards, because she can't find them. she looks up, through the bars, and sees a man sitting in a chair, watching her. she looks down, and after a long moment of staring blankly at the floor, she holds her left hand in her right and squeezes. blood oozes out of the wounds she made on the asphalt, what feels like hours ago. she writes, slowly and purposefully, being careful to conserve, since she has a pretty limited amount of ink. and then she taps against the bars, and points. the man frowns, and gets up to investigate. 

Im mute  
pls call my friend  
i can talk to him  
xxx-xxxx

she memorized terrence's number a long time ago. and she hopes he's near his phone, even if he is busy. she's not sure if he can get away from the table and pick her up if hes working, but she at least wants someone to know where she is. the man looks, and walks back to grab a landline. he dials, and hands her the handset through the bars. she signs thank you and she puts the phone up to her ear. 

the phone rings, 

and rings, 

and rings. 

and it goes to voicemail.

oh christ. she lets out an involuntary sob. she put the phone back up to her face, and whispers very quietly, turning away from the officer. _i got arrested, please come get me when you're free. im tired. love you._

well, is she ready to take the L or does she want to spend the night in jail? as if that's even a question.

she sighs and hands him the handset.

the man looks sympathetic, and he takes the handset and sits down.

_do you need anything? you're bleeding._

she shakes her head.

and she drags herself over to the cell bed, and hauls herself up. she lays her head down, and tries to let the exhaustion take over.

she wakes up to the sound of yelling. she's still too tired to move, and she can barely open her eyes. the harsh fluorescent lights that seemed so distant before, over all the pain, are now bright and blinding. the fire is mostly gone, and all that's left is the exhaustion and the fear. she remembers nearly nothing from... last night? yesterday? a few hours ago? before. she doesnt remember much at all. just vaguely that she is in jail. 

the yelling grows louder, and she realizes it's terrence. she tries to stand, but her legs collapsed under her, and she falls to the floor. she pulls herself up and slaps the bars with the palm of her hand. she hits it as fast and as loudly as she can, and after a minute, she sees him struggling to get to her. they're not being rough with him, since he still only has one arm. and eventually, they let him go, and he runs to the bars, colliding with them as he fails to slow down in time to stop, and sits down, and asks her if she's ok. she just nods, and he asks her if they hurt her, and she shrugs, and he asks her if she wants to go home, and she shakes her head. 

_what?_

she leans into the bars, and he leans his ear in.  
_they took molly, i need her. they took molly._

he looks at her with big, disbelieving eyes, and he stands up, and he goes and he yells some more, and the cops look at each other. the longer he yells the more they start running around. a few leave, one keeps talking to terrence, and one makes a phone call. and there's that man from before. she waves at him. he waves back, confused. she points to the bloody floor, and she points to terrence. he nods. she nods. 

after a long time of sitting and waiting, terrence returns, holding mollys lead, molly in toe. morgan tries to flap, but just mostly twitches with relief. the nice officer opens the door and molly runs over, licking her face. morgan tries to laugh, but it comes out as a harsh sob. terrence pats her on the shoulder. he asks her if she's ready to leave, and she nods. she stands up slowly, and molly stands, letting morgan brace against her while she catches her balance, and walking slowly with her as she starts to shuffle her way out.

and after a long struggle, she reaches the car. and terrence opens the door, and morgan collapses on the seat. molly jumps up and lays next to her, and terrence shuts the door. morgan feels the soft fur, and falls asleep quickly.

_morg, wake up. we're home._

_oh._

_you ready to walk again?_

_who's home?_

he sighs. _come on,_ he says, and holds out his hand. she takes it, and he does his best to help her to her feet. with him and molly helping morgan together, they make it to the door with relative ease.

_ok. why don't you wait out here for a minute. will that make you feel better?_

she nods. and he heads inside. after a long moment, she hears voices. they make her dizzy with anxiety, and she falls back to the floor. molly must be exhausted too, but she nuzzles her way into morgans lap, and morgan rests her head on her back, trying to calm down. the smell of molly keeps her calm, makes her feel safe. but the voices are getting louder, and she's not sure if it's people yelling louder or people getting closer. she puts her hoodie up, and tries to breathe. she tries to breathe. she's breathing. she's breathing. she tries to match molly's rhythm of inhales and exhales. she's ok.

terrence returns after a few more minutes. 

_ok maybe you were right. but it's all cool now, you can just go to bed, yeah?_

terrence guides her to her room, and she finally collapses in her bed. molly does the same. terrence turns to leave, and turn the light off.

_thank you, T_

_of course, dummy. night._

**Author's Note:**

> aint no rest for the morgan 😔
> 
> Update: how does this have 14 hits? theres only five people on earth who know the campaign???


End file.
